


Like a Song

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Christmas, Multi, Musicians, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: When Arthur ducks into a pub at the end of a long, awful day, he's charmed by the jazz guitarist onstage. Nothing can happen of it, though, especially when he discovers Merlin has a girlfriend.But that doesn't stop Arthur from going back...





	Like a Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Casijaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casijaz/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Casijaz! I hope you enjoy!

Icy water sprayed across Arthur’s trousers as the taxi rolled past, soaking him to the skin before he could jump back away from the street. Every expletive he’d ever learned threatened to come out, but he ground his teeth together and moved under the nearest eave to wipe the worst of the slush off. He knew it was futile. The fabric would be ruined, regardless of what he did. But it didn’t stop him from trying.

The perfect ending to one of the worst days of his life.

His fingers were numb when he finally gave up. Though wiping them off on his handkerchief helped, what he really wanted was to wash his hands and warm up. Returning to the office was out of the question. So was asking one of the nearby shop owners if he could use their loo. The last thing he needed right now was for some overzealous clerk to snap his picture. Uther wasn’t happy with him as it was. If a picture of a disheveled Arthur Pendragon went viral on social media, he could kiss any hope of a happy holiday goodbye.

Scanning the area, he looked for another option. Throngs of Christmas shoppers made it difficult, but as he was about to give up, he spotted a pub farther down the street. It was tiny, tucked between an estate agents which had already shut for the day and an HSBC cash machine. Nobody came in or out in the minute Arthur watched it.

Perfect. He’d go in, buy a pint, clean up, and be out before anyone recognized him. He might even make it to Morgana’s family dinner on time if he was quick enough about it.

With his head low and his shoulders hunched, he made it to the front of the pub without a single glance in his direction. The windows were darkened, with café curtains obscuring even more of the view, but from the moment he pulled the door open to enter, the rest of his senses went into overdrive.

The velvet touch of heat rushing out to envelop him.

The rich smell of Guinness combined with the meaty scent of a home-cooked Sunday roast.

The languorous plucks of a jazz guitar, evoking images of cigarette smoke curling up from an anonymous audience and the satin-sheathed chanteuse standing in the stage’s spotlight.

As he crossed the pub’s threshold, Arthur searched the room for the music’s source. He found it on a stool at the far end, a lean, dark-haired man bent over the dusky guitar in his lap while his long fingers danced over the strings. A mic sat in front of him, amplifying the acoustics, and a smattering of people throughout the space watched without uttering a single sound.

Normally, jazz didn’t do much for Arthur. He tended to prefer anthems and classic rock, bands like Queen and The Who that knew how to get a crowd going. But something about the soulful notes coming from this stranger’s guitar cut right through his ill-temper, dissolving any thought about what had transpired back at the office or what would lie ahead at Morgana’s. It drew him forward, deeper into the pub, until he stood at the corner of the bar, his gaze still fixed on the musician.

“What can I get you?” a voice said behind him.

“Guinness,” Arthur replied. As if on autopilot, he pulled out his wallet and tossed a twenty-pound note onto the counter, all without looking away from the tiny stage.

The song faded away like a morning mist. Nobody clapped until the man lifted his head and offered the small crowd a sheepish smile. Arthur was all set to join in the applause, but the blaze of the bright blue eyes as they swept over the pub froze him in place.

The guy was gorgeous.

Cheekbones for miles. Dark scruff shadowing his long jaw. And those eyes, clear and intelligent with a mischievous twinkle apparent even across the room.

Arthur turned and plopped onto the nearest stool. What had he done to deserve this today of all days? He could’ve walked into any pub, encountered any other musician, but no, he had to come here, like he needed a reminder that he was never going to fit the mold Uther wanted him to, no matter how many blackmail schemes he paid off.

Okay, it had only been the one, and after today Terence was well and gone, but Arthur still blamed himself for being taken in at all, even more so for Uther having found out. He’d managed to keep the true nature of his sexuality a secret for years. He should’ve managed to ignore one more man he found attractive.

The bartender set the Guinness in front of him. Arthur had it to his lips before he’d turned away to another customer.

“You must’ve really needed that,” a friendly voice said beside him.

As Arthur finished his long swallow, he glanced over and nearly choked. The guitarist stood a few feet away, smiling at him. “It’s been a day,” he managed to get out, then nearly coughed as the drink threatened to come back up again.

The man nodded in sympathy. “I get that.” 

Arthur waited for more that never came. The stranger reached for the bottle of water the bartender was holding out for him, smiled again at Arthur, and returned to the small stage.

Relief shuddered out of Arthur in a long sigh. Why was he so worried? He wasn’t even that good when it came to picking up men. He wasn’t that good at picking up anyone, actually. His social status did that for him. With women, though, nobody turned and stared at him in disgust. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed that insulation until he’d had to confront it in the face of his own father.

The music started up again, this time a jazzier number that danced along his skin with a comforting staccato that did more to warm him up than the Guinness. He didn’t realize he was tapping his fingers along the bar in tempo with the music until the bartender slid a flyer in front of him.

“If you enjoy Merlin’s playing, you should come on Friday night,” the bartender said. “His girlfriend’s got a knockout voice.”

The flyer was subtle, nothing at all like the holiday lavishness that took over so many otherwise level-headed people at this time of year. A simple ivy border outlined the page, with the words, “The Drum and Dragon Presents,” emblazoned across the top. In the middle was a guitar and a mic stand, with musical notes dancing around what he assumed was the band’s name.

“Why do they call themselves Avalon?” Arthur asked.

The bartender shrugged. “Who knows why musicians do anything?”

With that, he was gone, his marketing good deed apparently accomplished for the night. Arthur regarded the flyer for a moment before folding it in half and tucking it inside his pocket.

Merlin had a girlfriend. That was good news for Arthur. It was much easier to appreciate from afar when he knew the object of his lust was unavailable. If he didn’t have something booked for Friday, maybe he’d come in so he could see them together. It would quench his initial interest and he’d get a good show out of it as well.

He drained the rest of his pint and headed to the toilet to wash up like he’d originally planned. On the way, he caught Merlin’s eye in the middle of the song and immediately blushed when Merlin smiled at him again.

Or maybe it was better to stay away. The last thing he needed right now was for more complications. Arthur needed easy. A completely trouble-free Christmas. The best way to accomplish that was to forget the Drum and Dragon even existed.

* * *

He went.

He hadn’t intended to. When he’d checked his schedule with George that morning, he’d been relieved to see he was supposed to attend a dinner meeting with some Swedish investors that would likely crawl late into the night. But in the taxi on the way to the restaurant, George rang to say the investors needed to move the dinner to Saturday, due to inclement weather in Gothenburg.

“And there’s nothing else I need to take care of?” Arthur had asked.

“No.” George paused. “Did you…want something to do?”

Arthur brushed him off, knowing that asking for unnecessary work would look odd. George would never gossip, but there were plenty of people in the company who would. So Arthur settled back in his seat and racked his brains for what he could do on a Friday night on his own in the city.

Which was how he’d come to ask the driver to take him to The Drum and Dragon.

He caught the door as someone was coming out, and just like the first time, warmth assailed him. With it came everything else that had drawn him in—the scents, the music—but now the air hummed with electricity, the force of more bodies occupying the small space. He had to slide sideways to get past a couple who leaned against the wall in the entryway, then angle behind a table packed with college kids in order to get to the bar. He didn’t even see the stage until he took the last remaining stool.

Merlin wore a Santa hat in the spirit of the holiday, but the young woman who stood at the mic next to him glittered in a dark red sheath that accentuated the swell of her full breasts and the curve of her hip. Her dark curls were pinned back with a simple silver bar, but it was her luscious mouth, colored the same scarlet as her dress, that captivated Arthur.

This was Merlin’s girlfriend? From Arthur’s vantage, they had both won the relationship lottery.

When the bartender—a different one from last time—asked him what he wanted, he absently ordered a Guinness, but it sat untouched for the duration of the set. He was too enraptured by the sultry tone of the girlfriend’s voice, even though he only recognized a couple of the songs. More than one man in the audience felt the same, but while she directed most of her attention to them, the truly sizzling glances were always sent Merlin’s way.

Arthur clapped as loud as the rest of the crowd when the set was over. For a moment, when Merlin bowed in response, he thought he’d been spotted, but then the thought vanished as Merlin scooped his girlfriend’s hand into his and disappeared through the Employees Only door next to the stage. He swiveled back to the bar, suddenly too warm, and took a long swallow from the pint.

Coming had been a mistake. He was supposed to get Merlin off his mind, to see him as part of a couple, untouchable and out of reach. Instead, he was stuck with images of her darker skin writhing beneath Merlin’s pale hands, helpless against their talented strokes as her own fingers clawed at Merlin’s back. He wasn’t supposed to want both of them. That was worse than just wanting Merlin.

His glass was almost empty when the couple next to him got off their stools and left. He was about to do the same when voices rose behind him.

“You’re so good! Where can I find you online?”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the singer standing next to the nearest table, smiling at the young man who was currently gushing praise. He couldn’t hear the murmured response, but after she’d leaned in for a picture, their gazes met. Her eyes widened a fraction, and his heart fell. Arthur knew that look. She recognized him.

He was off the stool, his hand reaching for his phone to call for a car, when she appeared at his elbow.

“Not sticking around for the next set?” she asked.

He slapped on his most gracious smile, the one he needed for all the stuffed shirts he was forced to interact with, and hoped she bought the act. “As tempting as that is, I can’t.”

“That’s a shame.” She leaned against the bar, and the scent of her musky perfume filled his head. “Merlin thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was.” His mind whirled. They’d been talking about him? Merlin must have picked him out of the crowd sooner than Arthur had thought. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” Though a cup of steaming tea appeared on the counter beside her elbow, she ignored it and stuck her hand out. “I’m Gwen.”

He took it, because not doing so would create a bigger scene than he could handle. “Arthur.”

“I know.”

“Did Merlin tell you that, too?”

She laughed. “Oh, God, no. He has no idea who you are.”

Arthur stiffened in surprise. “He doesn’t?”

“Don’t be offended. He wouldn’t be able to pick Colin Firth out of a crowd, either. He doesn’t pay attention to that sort of thing.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because all Merlin cares about is his work and his music. Everything else is…” She shrugged.

“And you,” Arthur added.

“Pardon?”

“He cares about you, too,” he clarified. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

She blushed and ducked her head, toying with a loose tendril that had fallen against her cheek. “Well, yes. I suppose that goes without saying.”

The urge to give her something else, even if she had figured out who he was, was too great to resist. Leaning down, Arthur murmured in her ear, “Merlin is a very lucky man.”

He heard her breath catch. When she tilted her gaze to look up at him again, however, he couldn’t bring himself to retreat more than a couple inches. She was as mesmerizing up close as she had been in the middle of a song. Faint freckles dotted her nose, and her dark eyes practically glowed.

“You really can’t stay for the second set?” Her voice was barely a whisper. By all rights, he shouldn’t have been able to hear her, but for whatever reason, each word was etched into his skin. “Merlin will be so disappointed he missed you.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“That’s not the same as can’t.”

His heart thudded against his ribs. This was dangerous. “Is that why you came out here?”

The tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lower lip. “Merlin thought…”

And then the reality of it all came crashing in. What was he thinking? He’d only just got Terence packed out of his life. One misplaced look, and he’d almost fallen into another scheme that could out him.

He stood straight. “Merlin was wrong,” he said in the coldest voice he could muster. “And a decent man wouldn’t use his girlfriend as bait.”

Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. Before Arthur could hear what argument she might pose, he brushed past her and nearly bolted for the front door.

The chilly night air was a welcome reprieve. It cooled his hot face, though it didn’t touch the fire in his blood. Opening his coat, he set off on a march toward the corner, putting as much distance between him and the pub as he could before calling for a car.

He was an idiot. A frustrated, short-sighted idiot. He should’ve learned his lesson with Terence.

Maybe this time, he would.

* * *

Arthur got off the lift on Monday morning in a foul mood. After the disaster at the pub, he’d gone home to find multiple messages from Uther, demanding his presence at an early meeting on Saturday. Then the Swedes had canceled a second time, postponing their trip to the new year, which had opened up Arthur’s schedule and made him fair game for Morgana’s Christmas party.

Where he got so drunk, he went home with that bitch Nimueh and promptly passed out on her settee. He woke up on Sunday to more bad press on social media, which had prompted yet another tongue-lashing from Uther.

He was so bloody sick and tired of being everybody’s whipping dog.

He clenched his jaw when he saw George racing to meet him. “Not now,” he growled, brushing past.

“But, sir, there’s a—”

“I said, not now!”

He rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt when a long finger poked him hard in the sternum.

“What the hell did you say to Gwen?” Merlin demanded.

Arthur took a step back, refraining from rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “What’re you doing here?”

Merlin’s eyes flashed. “You heard me.”

George scurried to Arthur’s side. “I’m so sorry, sir. I told him you weren’t available this morning, but he’s been refusing to leave.”

“Because I want some answers,” Merlin snapped. “And I’m not going until I get them.”

“I could call security,” Arthur said.

“And risk me posting video of me getting dragged out of your building? I don’t think so.”

Regardless of Gwen’s claims, it was clear Merlin knew enough now to see the power of social media as a weapon to be used against Arthur Pendragon. Well, if he wanted a fight, he was going to get one.

“George, hold my calls for the time being.” He jerked his chin toward his office, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s. “Come with me.”

He didn’t wait for Merlin, letting him follow or not, but he wasn’t surprised when Merlin was the one to shut the door behind them. 

“Tell me—”

“No.” Arthur held out his hand. “Give me your phone first.”

Though Merlin pressed his lips together, he reached into his pocket and passed it over. Arthur checked to make sure it wasn’t recording and tossed it onto his desk.

“I don’t appreciate being ambushed.” Arthur perched on the corner and folded his arms over his chest. It helped. A lot. Because even though he was annoyed, and even though Merlin was clearly angry, Arthur was still struck by the sudden stirrings of desire for the man.

“And I don’t appreciate people hurting Gwen,” Merlin shot back. “She barely got through our second set because of you.”

“Me? You’re the one who was using her.”

His accusation drew Merlin up short. “Using her? What’re you talking about?”

“You sent her out to chat me up, didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“There you go, then.”

Triumph should’ve been sweet. Except Merlin was staring at him like he’d grown a second head. 

“So…you object to women you find attractive being the one to make the first move?” Merlin asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But you did find her attractive.”

That sounded like a trick question. “That doesn’t mean I’m foolish enough to fall for your game. And the fact that you dragged her into whatever it is you were planning—” He stopped as a new idea presented itself. “Did she come up with it?”

Merlin shook his head. “You’re absolutely barmy, do you know that? There was no game. Not on my end, anyway. But I’m starting to think you might’ve been having a bit of a laugh. Why else would you have been at the pub?”

Now this one, he could answer. “I came for the show.”

“And that first night? Don’t tell me that was about the music.”

“No, I needed to clean up, and I wanted a pint. The bartender showed me the flyer for Friday, and my other plans got canceled so I had the night free. Satisfied?” Merlin’s frown lingered, so no, he probably wasn’t. Arthur sighed. “Look, if I hurt Gwen’s feelings, I’m sorry. Does that help?”

“Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

“But what game do you think I was playing? I didn’t even know who you were until I dragged it out of Gwen on Saturday.”

“Why else would you have sent your girlfriend out to chat up a stranger?”

“Because you couldn’t take your eyes off her for most of the show.”

“So you thought you’d do me a favor?”

For the first time since they’d run into each other, Merlin couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Look, clearly I misread the situation. I apologize for that. And thank you for apologizing about what happened with Gwen. If you’ll give me my phone back, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Arthur had spent too much time with Uther and his business dealings not to recognize a retreat when he saw one. But why? What was Merlin so reluctant to share?

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you thought you misread. You and I barely spoke to each other.”

Color rose in Merlin’s cheeks with each word Arthur uttered. It was adorable, so much so that the urge to feel the heat for himself almost beat out his common sense.

A minute passed. As it seemed a second would go by in the same silence, Merlin squared his shoulders and finally looked up.

“I thought there was a spark between us,” he said. “Especially when you came back. But then you kept staring at Gwen, so I assumed I was wrong. I sent Gwen out to see if she liked you.”

There was too much to unpack in such a few short sentences. Starting with… “I still don’t understand why if you didn’t have an ulterior motive.”

“But I did. If you two hooked up, I was going to ask to watch.”

All the air sucked out of Arthur’s lungs. That might’ve been the hottest suggestion anyone had ever made to him. Most of that was because it was Merlin and Gwen he was now imagining, but still…Merlin wanted that?

Which led Arthur to his next query.

“So your relationship with Gwen is…?”

“Real,” Merlin finished. “I’m bi. Gwen knows that.”

“And she’s okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“And you’re okay if she hooks up with someone else?”

“She doesn’t do it on a whim,” Merlin said, his tone sharpish. “She doesn’t do it much at all, frankly. We’re in a committed relationship.”

“With condoned cheating.”

“Every once in a while, one of us meets someone interesting. But nothing ever happens until we’ve talked it out and agree we’re on the same page.”

“And you thought I was…interesting.”

Merlin cocked a single brow. “I know you own a mirror.”

The room swam as Arthur tried to sort it all out. He’d been right. About some of it, anyway. Merlin’s interest. Gwen’s. The possibility that he could’ve had either one of them if he’d stuck it out.

_Or both._

He’d certainly been propositioned like this before, but never by a couple, and never by two people who completely sucked him in like Merlin and Gwen. Any other time, and he would’ve written it off, so why not now?

_Because it’s Merlin and Gwen, you idiot._

But he had to. At the very least, he had to ignore his craving for Merlin. Arthur Pendragon could not be bi, no matter how much he wanted it. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

“You’re not telling me to shove off,” Merlin commented. 

“Because I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Can I have my phone back while you’re thinking?”

Twisting, Arthur picked it up and held it out as if on autopilot, barely aware as Merlin edged closer to the door.

“Being who you are, you must always expect the worst of people,” Merlin said. “But you were wrong this time. Gwen’s the best person I’ve ever known. If you’d stuck around, you would’ve learned that for yourself.”

“And you?” Arthur heard himself say before he could stop it.

The corner of Merlin’s mouth tipped. “I learned a long time ago you have to bend a few rules to do what’s right for some people, so no, I’m not a paragon of virtue. Sorry to disappoint.”

He didn’t, but Arthur kept those words to himself. “And I’m truly sorry I upset Gwen in any way,” he repeated. “I just…”

“I get it,” Merlin said when Arthur struggled to explain it. “You want some advice?”

“Not really.”

“Then an observation. Life’s too short to be unhappy if you don’t have to be. Find what you want, and fight for it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop grinning. “That sounds remarkably like advice I specifically didn’t ask for.”

“Probably.” With his hand on the door handle, he winked. “But I bend the rules, remember?”

Arthur laughed as Merlin walked out the door. He sobered quickly as George immediately took Merlin’s face.

“Do I need to contact anyone, sir?” he asked. “Security? The police?”

Through the doorway, Arthur stole a glimpse of Merlin’s angular shoulder before he disappeared from view. “No,” he replied. “It was simply a misunderstanding.” He rose to go around his desk, then paused. “But if he comes back or tries contacting me again, put him right through, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And cancel my morning meetings. I have some research that needs to be done.”

“I could take care of that for you and leave you free for more important items on your schedule.”

Arthur shook his head. “This requires my full attention. Thank you, George, That’ll be all.”

As soon as he was alone, Arthur logged into his computer. Merlin had claimed he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about them, that they only wanted what they’d said. The best way to find out for himself was to see what kind of people they really were.

Even rule-benders had to be on the Internet somewhere, right?

* * *

For Christmas Eve, the pub was surprisingly lively. The tables nearest the small stage were packed, and half the bar was taken. Arthur chose a table off to the side, one with a good view but still private enough to keep him out of the limelight.

Then Merlin and Gwen came through the employee door, laughing and holding hands, and within seconds, Arthur was spotted.

Merlin froze for a half-second, then leaned down to whisper something in Gwen’s ear. Her head swiveled in Arthur’s direction, eyes soft and surprised.

But what was more surprising was the sudden veer of their path, straight for his table.

Arthur stood as they came to a stop. “Before you say anything…” He turned to Gwen. “I owe you an apology. I was rude and presumptuous. You didn’t deserve that.”

Gwen glanced up at Merlin before saying, “Um…thank you, though it’s really not necessary. Merlin already explained everything.”

He’d had no doubt after what he’d learned online. The couple had met at uni, where Merlin got his degree in social work and Gwen in mechanical engineering. Both were driven to help people, and they used their music as an outlet. Ten years, they’d been together, with nothing but glowing reviews, lots of friends, and an enormous dog named Kilgarrah they shared far too many pictures of on their shared Instagram. He couldn’t have been more wrong about their motivations if he’d tried.

“Still, I’d like to make it up to you.” His throat was dry. What he wouldn’t give for a drink right now. “After your show. I thought…well, I’d like to take both of you out. For dinner. To…get to know each other better.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Gwen said.

“Oh!” He hadn’t thought this through. “I’m sorry, you must have other plans.”

Merlin gestured toward the stage. “This is it.”

“But what about you?” Gwen pressed. “Surely, you want to spend tonight with family.”

“No, this is exactly where I want to be.” He met Merlin’s eyes, refusing to look away. He prayed Merlin understood. “You and I have a lot in common. It seems a shame to not explore it further.”

It wasn’t the speech he’d practiced. After the apology, he’d intended to buy them drinks, shower them with flattery, do whatever he could to get them to relax before suggesting dinner. But maybe this was better. No games. Cards on the table. Because he meant every word. He wanted to get to know them. Every minute since learning what kind of people they were had been haunted with possibilities. 

If only Merlin understood.

His knees nearly crumpled when Merlin nodded. “I think dinner’s a great idea. We’ll find you after the show.”

When they turned toward the stage, Arthur caught Gwen’s arm. “Do you take requests?”

“If I know the song,” she replied.

“What about ‘At Last?’”

They both smiled at him, and Arthur felt a thousand feet tall. “Definitely,” Gwen said. “Anybody you want me to dedicate it to?”

He dragged his fingers along her elbow, then rested his other hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “No. They know.”


End file.
